Benjamin Franklin Pierce
by hawkeye-heart 'n Seoul
Summary: B.J. examines his thoughts on a particularly troubling time of his life. Only slash if you REALLY want it to be. Mostly friendship fic. Rating just to be safe.


Holy crap... I actually finished a new post. For those of you impatiently waiting for a "Nine for You" update, I promise I'm working on it. I won't provide with a list of my excuses because you probably don't care a whole lot about the why, but I assure you I will post as soon as humanly possible.

Anyway, here's a little something to tide you over.

Disclaimer: Nope, still ain't mine. Yup, still love playing with them.

Read. Review. Enjoy... or not. It's up to you.

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Benjamin Franklin Pierce. No one ever called you that except those who didn't know you: the officials who had only ever seen your name on a paper. Those who had never seen you cringe at the sound of it or heard your hasty correction. "Please, call me Hawkeye." They didn't really know you. No one who really knew you called you Benjamin Franklin Pierce or – worse – the shortened and nearly dehumanizing B.F. Pierce.

You wouldn't believe how many officials are crawling through this place with all their talk of a Benjamin Franklin Pierce. Frankly – excuse the expression – I think you'd be horrified. I also think, however, I am probably more horrified. Perhaps though, that is because, after all this, I can't help but wonder if perhaps those of us who "knew" you should have been referring to you by your full name all along. I can't help feeling as if we really didn't know you well enough to call you anything else.

I have my guesses, and so does everyone else I'm sure, as to the nature of the man behind the wit, the smiles and the stunts. But I also have my doubts that any of my guesses hold much truth. Especially now…there are more doubts than ever now.

You knew us all so well. Especially me. You always seemed to know what to say or how to just be there when someone needed you. If you weren't directly involved in the solution of someone's problem, chances were you were the indirect cause, the extra little push or idea that became the motivation and/or inspiration for them discovering their own solution. Even when you were too tired, too preoccupied or too whatever, you still seemed to be that motivation and inspiration. You truly had a way with people.

You had such a way with people in fact that you could easily steer us away from the parts of you that you didn't want us to see. It still amazes me to think of the number of times I can remember now, thinking back, that I hunted you down with the intention of talking about one thing or another, determined to get a straight answer, and went away unanswered and completely unable to remember what my original goal had been.

I truly believe we only saw the signs we did because you were under so much constant strain, in such a state of continuous exhaustion, and more sober than you wanted to be. If we had known you back in the States where you where in better control of your environment and more at ease in it, I don't think we'd ever have gotten even those small glimpses behind your armored veil.

I don't think anyone in the States ever did – see you I mean, the real you – with the few exceptions of your parents and possibly Carlye. Though I don't think she saw much. After all, that's why she left; she didn't feel like she had all of you.

Maybe that's why your childhood friends reacted the way they did when you called about your nightmares; they weren't used to the idea that Hawkeye Pierce could be afraid. They probably assumed it was one of your strange jokes. God knows we were all familiar enough with those.

God knows that I thought all of this was one of your jokes at first. I had hoped it was. I still wish that it had been.

I would kill you though, you know, for a joke this insensitive. And even though it's not a joke, I still find myself wanting to beat some sense into you.

At the same time, I want to beat sense into myself too.

Yeah, you were always too good at hiding from us. But we were too good at letting you. We should have tried harder. I should have tried harder.

In the end it doesn't matter what I called you or what I think I should've been calling you. Benjamin Franklin Pierce. Hawkeye… In the end, I can't help but feel I've lost you both.

We were all too willing to let you fend for yourself, and even when you needed someone, most of the time we just let Sidney take care of you. Even he had too much faith in your own ability to help yourself it seems.

The truth is, you lost you before we ever did, didn't you?

We hang on in hope for the brief moments of beauty in our lives amidst all the other crap. I can't help but think that you'd been here too long to remember that they'd ever existed at all, let alone hope they'd ever come again.

I have to tell you… In the midst of all this, I think I know how you felt…

Damnit Hawkeye! Why did you let it get to you?! Why couldn't you talk to us? Why didn't you let us help you? Any of us would have – in a heart beat!

Don't you understand how much we depend on you?! We care about you Hawkeye! _I_ care about you!

God…I – I just… There had to have been something I could've done. I keep reliving everything before –

I remember the tiniest of details. The shirt you were wearing, the abnormal time you got up that morning… everything. I keep thinking there had to have been a clue…something… anything. Worse though, I find them – the clues. They're there – or at least I've convinced myself through hindsight that they were.

How many times have we told each other that there is no use in obsessing over something like this? That regret and hindsight aren't going to get you anywhere productive? I wish you'd tell me that this time. I wish that you were here to give me some of your unique advice hidden in a witty remark. Something like, "life is too short, but it's the longest thing we ever do."

…Life is too short. Especially in cases like this. You didn't deserve this; you sure as hell didn't deserve to believe it was your only way out.

I'll never forget those last few days. At the time you seemed so… normal. No one saw this coming; I should have. You would have seen it in any of the rest of us.

I have to live with that for the rest of my life. You ended your life; I have to live with that. It was your life to take, but the death is ours.


End file.
